


Little Things

by aminiatureworld



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: I have absolutely 0 regrets, M/M, Pure Unadulterated Fluff, This is probably the most saccharine thing I've ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:14:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27587975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aminiatureworld/pseuds/aminiatureworld
Summary: Geralt has learned to appreciate the little things. And with Jaskier there are too many to count.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 4
Kudos: 56





	Little Things

**Author's Note:**

> I was originally going to post another angsty fic but I decided these two characters need some happiness. This was a lot more abstract than I usually am in terms of plot, but I wanted to try something new. I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> My thanks to previous readers in the endnote

Geralt had learned to love the little things a long time ago. When your job consisted of constantly being on the road, constantly passing by, your home far away, and full of things you’d rather forget, well one had to love the little things. Flowers stubbornly growing on the side of a beaten road, the sky when it was about to snow but hadn’t yet, there were many little things in nature to love. But even more things could be found among humans. There were the hands of the silversmith, tarnished and stained but delicate and sure when working on their craft; there was the way people tended to smirk before they smiled, one corner of their mouth going up first before the other followed its lead. People were so full of little things to love, little spots of light surrounded by darkness, keeping their heads afloat. Humans were rarely full of goodness, indeed most of them tended to prefer anger and hate and fear, at least when it came to Geralt and his lot, but there were still little flashes of hope now and then, and Geralt had learned to lock these moments up in his heart, taking them out every once in a while and remembering them. There weren’t many of those moments often, they too had to shine among all the bad Geralt had experienced, but indeed if they were small and rare, then that only gave them greater value in his mind.

And then Jaskier had appeared. At first, Geralt hadn’t thought to look for the little things in Jaskier. He was too busy trying and failing, to shake the bard off. And then after that Geralt had been too focused on being annoyed with a mandatory companion. It took a few weeks for the initial feelings of distrust, mixed with a bleak sort of amusement, to wear off, but then oh did the little things to love pile up. There was so much to love about Jaskier, big and small. Geralt tried to list them sometimes when the firelight was low and he was preparing to meditate, but he always started dozing after a while, the list seemingly too long to try to count up. And yet he still tried.

Jaskier’s smile had probably been the first little thing Geralt had noticed. He smiled with his entire being it seemed, not restricting it to his face. You could tell when Jaskier was smiling, his voice adopted a passion and energy that Geralt couldn’t imagine mustering himself, and when he got too excited he tended to stretch his arms out towards the sky as if beckoning the world to share in his happiness. That was another little thing. Jaskier leaked generosity. Even when he was complaining and swearing, arms locked together, his eyebrow raised in skepticism, he still seemed prepared to drag off and help, because of course, he did. His eyes betrayed those feelings more than the rest of his posture and expressions. That was another thing Geralt loved about Jaskier, his eyes seemed to hold a world inside of them, or perhaps a portal one might peak into. They were mixed with all the things a world has to hold. Hope, joy, sadness, determination; all these things mixed into two pools of blue. Geralt could stare and study them for hours.

His habits also contained a myriad of little things Geralt found endearing. The way that Jaskier often murmured at his instrument when it was out, hugging it when excited, fingers careful never to scratch the finish. He always ate before he drank, when he wasn’t determined to get roaring drunk that was, and he could usually only make about three bites after drinking before setting his food down and declaring himself stuffed. Geralt at first had found Jaskier quite a slob, something that the Witcher secretly thought only carefree people could afford to be, after all where would Geralt be if all his weapons, potions, and various supplies weren’t perfectly organized? But Jaskier’s organization and cares were easy to spot if you knew what to look for. His books were never folded over, his things were bundled together in a variety of categories, each stranger than the last. He always had a sort of quill in his pocket, which he would take out and fiddle with when nervous. He began to pick at his clothes when he was bored, and when he was angry he purposefully dugs his nails into his left ring finger, often leaving red marks.

All these things were done without fail, and slowly Geralt began to look for them regularly. He almost began to rely on them, rely on the little things that showed him Jaskier was real and true and a constant presence in his life. He felt so grateful for the little things, and if he could he would list them all, then present that list to Jaskier, each point another reminder of how important Jaskier was, and how much Geralt had learned to cherish him, learned to love him.

It was a warm summer evening, not too hot now that the sun had sunk. Jaskier was swearing about the bugs, and at various intervals would itch his ankle, sure that there was always some sort of creep crawly waiting to attach itself to him. Geralt watched this song and dance for a while, smiling slightly before Jaskier thought to look up at his companion, long since torn away from polishing his sword.

“What?” Jaskier asked. “Can you see something I don’t?”

“You always do that when the bugs come out.” Geralt commented. “You itch your ankle.”

“How do you know that?” Asked Jaskier, crossing his arms and looking slightly defensive, although his eyes also betrayed a hint of amusement, and beyond deeper emotions, Geralt couldn’t truly pin down.

“I notice sometimes.” He replied. “The little things.”

“The little things?” There was mirth in Jaskier’s voice, warm and addicting, and Geralt suddenly felt the urge to smile as well.

“Like habits. I notice little things. And I notice a lot of little things about you. I like noticing them.”

“Well do you?” Said Jaskier, obviously happy and flattered. Scooching closer the bard leaned in towards Geralt, chin propped up in his hands. Geralt smiled, unable to keep a stoic look upon his face, not that he really cared about that anymore. Not with Jaskier at least.

“I do. I love the little things about you.” Jaskier’s ears reddened slightly, and a blush dusted his cheeks. He seemed at a loss for words, straightening up, hand reaching towards his pocket, before halting and creeping back towards Geralt, palm open. Geralt slid his hand in Jaskier’s, who smiled, lighting up the night with his happiness.

“Well, I love the little things about you Geralt too. And the big things. Everything about you.” Now it was Geralt’s turn to blush, and he dropped his gaze towards their hands, still entwined, lighted by the small fire the two had built.

“So do I. I love the big things and the little things.”

I love everything about you.

I love you.

**Author's Note:**

> My deep thanks to the 280 people who read my last Witcher fic. Special thanks to the 44 who gave it kudos, the 1 who bookmarked it, and the one who commented on it. Thank you for reading despite my absences and I hope you continue to like what I do!


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